The Mighty Megalosaurus
by ImJessieTR
Summary: Earl Sinclair's younger years. Civilization has left Earl wondering about his place in life and if he can ever be truly appreciated for who he is. Rated T for non-human violence and relationship issues.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: I don't own Dinosaurs. That would be Disney. Henson's Creature Shop made the characters. Earl's parents, to the best of my knowledge, are never named or showed, so these things I made up. Other than that, I'll be using mostly characters from the show, just younger, as this is a prequel to the show. All dates are based off of remarks from various characters, though the show is inconsistent in some spots. Also, this fic, like the show, treats animal-like violence rather casually.**

_PROLOGUE_

(60,000,046BC)

"Bump, bump, bump, bada bump, badump, bada badada bada-tadada," sang quietly a strong male dinosaur with mottled brown and green scales as he bobbed and weaved through the forest, sniffing out his wife. "Bump!" he shouted as he jumped up and stomped a small little mammal, which he promptly picked up and threw down his gullet. He laughed, enjoying the little pancaked mammal as it slid down his throat.

He was a newly wed dinosaur, the first of his family to do so. His wife had looked so wonderful on that day, a slender aquamarine reptilian goddess with flowers around her neck and a small white blouse with a just a hint of a frill on the collar. He finally caught the light scent of her perfume: lavender. He followed it, grinning as widely as his megalosaurus jaws would let him.

"Cayla, my darling," he began when he finally spotted her in small thicket under the full moon, his eyes twinkling.

She shot up from her spot lying restfully on the ground. She dusted herself off, her eyes wide and her jaw agape. "Amir!" she exclaimed. "How – how – when did you get back?"

He walked over and clutched her tightly. "Yesterday. Those four-footers were ready to listen to my plan to save the trees around the Great Swamp. Isn't that great?" He caressed her smooth head.

"Lovely," Cayla agreed sheepishly.

Amir sighed happily. "Cayla, you truly are my crown. You are the most radiant dinosaur I've ever met! When you finally lay our first egg, I'll be able to die happy!"

"Well, you're in luck, pal," shouted a beefy orange dinosaur with six tiny horns on the sides of his head. Amir could barely put himself in front of Cayla before the intruder leapt and came down on Amir, forcing him to the ground. "I'm movin' your happiness up a few years!" he growled confidently as he snapped Amir's neck.

The victor stood and caressed Cayla. "I thought he was coming back next week."

Cayla pushed him away angrily. "Jeez, Dominic – did you have to jump him so close to _me_?" She kicked the body. "I don't care that your challenge was legal under the Code of the Wilderness – I could have been _hurt_." She turned and slapped him. "If you don't want to be pinned by a tree right now, you need to apologize!"

"What's your problem?" Dominic exclaimed. "You couldn't _stand_ the little eco-whiner." He batted his eyelids and tiptoed around with clasped hands, his voice stereotypically girlish, "Ooh, look at me! I plant seeds for a living! I am one with the sacred environment!" He blew a raspberry. "Big deal. Now he's compost for this whole thicket. He got his wish. Ooh," he continued seductively, trying to stroke under her chin, "unless you want to bring him back home for supper."

Cayla stared at him in disgust.

* * *

Cayla and Dominic, sometime later, stare at a pale egg with green bands as it hatches. To their surprise, two rather tiny green dinosaur babies, both looking a bit frail, use their combined strength to break free of the egg before spilling out over a table and into their parents' arms.

* * *

(60,000,040BC)

The two green dinosaur siblings, each with large disproportionate jaws and a brown stripe going down their backs, throw a talent show for their parents. The boy dinosaur, distinguished from his sister by red and black plaid pajamas, is yelled at by his father, causing the son to hang his head and cut a dirty glance to his sister, dressed in pink pajamas, who is getting kisses and hugs from their mother.

* * *

(60,000,036BC)

The son, now wearing a red and plaid tank top, stands in front of a blackboard in a one-room schoolhouse, grumbling as he writes "Earl will not protest the use of bulldozers" repeatedly.

* * *

(60,000,034BC)

Earl is sitting on the floor watching "Mr. Ugh", a black and white TV show about a talking caveman with shaggy black hair, in his parents' sparse apartment, while his sister strums a guitar on a nearby sofa with floral cushions. He cringes at her apparently bad attempts at playing. Finally, he jumps up and kicks in the television screen, causing it to go dark.


	2. A Father's Hope

_A Father's Hope_

(60,000,033BC)

"Um, Dad, why can't we go back to the apartment?" Earl asked, rubbing his stomach as they walked to the edge of a forest that was slowly burning from a barely moving lava flow.

Dominic cringed. He cut Earl a sharp glance. "Hey – if I don't watch out, your mother is gonna have you singin' and dancin' and maybe even becoming a," he said, shuddering, "_scholar_."

"What's so wrong with that?" Earl continued, stopping to stare at a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon.

Dominic whipped around and grabbed Earl by the arm, nearly breaking it. "No son of mine is buyin' into that whole 'civilization' thing," he demanded. "It's just one o' those fad things that'll fizzle out in anudder year or two." He let go of Earl's thin frame. "Tradition is tradition, boy. The old ways were the right ways."

"But, dinosaurs have been getting civilized for almost a million years now," Earl protested in a whimper.

Dominic smirked and chuckled. "An' dinosaurs have been on this earth for _hundreds_ of millions of years." His voice grew tender. "Don't you get it, Earl? Dinosaurs survived _because_ they didn't just do whatever they wanted. They did things 'cause it was right, not because they just woke up one mornin' and decided on a new plan." He patted his son on the back, making the boy flinch. "If you gotta adapt to your environment, that just means you couldn't cut it naturally." He continued softly, "Your momma's spoilin' Pearl, so if I wanna have any chance at all of havin' a kid who'll survive, I gotta teach ya _right_."

"Now," Dominic told his son much later as they reached the smoldering black river of cooling lava, "if you're goin' huntin' the best thing to do is find a spot where they just die off on their own, like this lava flow here." He tossed a twig onto the black stripe running through the forest, watching as it poofed into smoke on contact.

Earl watched intently. "I thought it was better to kill than just to scavenge, Dad."

Dominic laughed and heartily slapped his son on the back. "You're getting' ahead of yourself, boy," he said. "You're just a thirteen year-old kid. You can barely keep your skull up on that thin neck o' yours. If you just rush into things, you'll be draggin' your intestines away from a fight."

Earl took a big whiff and shuddered. "Dad – the smoke," he said, gagging, "blocks the smell of nearby prey."

Dominic leaned back and inhaled deeply, smiling. "Yeah, I love the smell of burning lava in the evening." He nodded. "That's the challenge, kid. The rest is up to you." He sat down and leaned against a tree and started to snore.

Earl looked around. There were hardly any dead animals. Only an idiot would be this close to a lava flow, even if it _was_ slow. The smell alone would have driven away most game. He looked back at his father as he started to wander away.

If only there was a Kave Mart nearby. He could just go "help himself" to a roast and act like he had killed it himself.

Earl wasn't exactly the best hunter on the super-continent. He was surely no match for his hero, Red Bakker, who was always on television, describing his daring hunts in amazing detail, with an exuberance that always left Earl giddy with delight and an awestruck sigh.

What made Red Bakker even _more_ incredible was that it was one of the only shows he and his father could watch together and enjoy. His father was profoundly against television, claiming it brainwashed the masses into forgetting the old days – but Red Bakker flawlessly connected previous wild generations with current civilized ones. After all, you could put a dinosaur in clothes and under a roof, but you couldn't take the beast out of him.

Earl felt it before he could see or smell it: a giant of a dinosaur, maybe twenty feet tall or so, was bearing down on him through the forest. From the shape of the shadow, it was definitely a carnivore. He trembled a bit before hearing Bakker's voice in his head, describing his beachside hunt from last week. A light went off inside his head and he started wagging his tail and dancing around, seemingly oblivious to the approaching predator.

It burst from the trees and Earl dashed as close as he dared to the lava flow. The predator, a large therapod with rough plumage, rumbled out from the trees and stopped, snorting as it came to the stench of sulfur.

Earl's face fell. When he looked down, he noticed each foot had one large claw in comparison to the other ones. He grimaced. He had heard about that type of dinosaur. They were cold and calculating and way smarter than most. "Hey!" Earl shouted, jumping up and down, "don't ya wanna eat me?"

The large dromeosaur grimaced. "Ugh, it stinks to high heaven here." He nodded. "You get a free pass, kid."

"But, I need you to fall into the lava flow so my Dad'll think I killed you."

The predator laughed as he backed away from the stench. "You caught that episode of Bakker too, didn't you?" he said with a toothy grin. "I can't believe the predators chasing him actually fell for it." He cocked his head to one side. "Have you even joined the YMCA yet, kid?"

"No," Earl replied.

The giant dromeosaur shook his head. "Look, none of the stuff around here'll be fit to eat. Go join the YMCA. They'll teach you how to smack down smaller creatures in no time flat. I'd be ashamed of my father if I was you. I mean, how lazy do you have to be not to teach your own offspring how to hunt yourself?" He reached to the back of his curved neck and plucked out a feather, cringing as he did so. He let it drop. "You take that back to your pop with a story of how you avoided getting eaten by a Utahraptor. Then offer to join the Y. That should impress the bum."

When the Utahraptor left, Earl cautiously picked up the feather and ran back to his father, nearly hopping with joy.

It wasn't the ending he had hoped for his hunt, but it sure beat getting digested.

**Author's Note: If you haven't read Robert Bakker's Raptor Red book, I suggest it. It's way awesome.**


	3. La Brea High School

_La Brea High School_

(60,000,033BC)

Sid Turtlepuss, a small brown dinosaur with a tortoise-like face, looked at a small map as he walked down the hallway with Earl. "So," he said in a high-pitched voice, "Earl: if we were all taught in one room as little kids, then why build a big high school?"

Earl shrugged, lugging a small sack of books across his shoulder. "Maybe it has something to do with that volcano thing down south. Everybody's migratin' up here."

"Huh, guess so," Sid noted.

Earl walked over to his locker and fiddled with the lock to open it. He tossed the books to the floor. "Why do they have to weigh more than breakfast?" he wondered aloud, rubbing his shoulder. He opened his locker finally and a tidal wave of saltine crackers poured out. A male cackling made Earl and Sid turn around, crunching a pile of crackers underfoot. Earl spotted Pete, a small green long-nosed dinosaur, bunched over, pointing at Earl and laughing. Earl frowned. "Ha _ha_, Pete."

Pete Rawn waited until he could catch his breath before responding. "C'mon, Earl … it coulda been the water bucket over the locker gag."

Earl rolled his eyes and sighed. "But then you wouldn't be such the comic innovator," he shot back sarcastically.

Sid elbowed Earl. "Well, at least you got something to eat for lunch today," he said with a grin.

Earl shook his head. "And get filled up on non-nutritious wafers? What do you want me to do – swell up to the size of a brontosaurus?"

* * *

Earl sat in math class, tapping his pencil repeatedly as the assignment stared at him tauntingly. He felt someone tap him on the back. A purple needle-nosed dinosaur, wearing thick glasses, whispered, "Hey, Earl, you need some help?"

Earl smirked. "Nah. The formula is pretty straight-forward," he answered confidently. "It's just I never understood the question, Ed. It never explains what a train _is_. Why should we care when two of them reach the station? What kind of manager wouldn't just make some sort of schedule and demand they get there on time?"

Ed shrugged. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Hey, did you get that new horror comic at the bookstore?" Earl frowned and shook his head – his father thought comics were a waste of time. "Well, it tells this story of a hermit Elder who seduces young female dinosaurs and then bites their necks and sucks their blood." Ed's grin widened as much as possible. "He looks _so_ cool – I'm gonna base my whole life off him."

Earl stared at his classmate like he had just bitten off his own hand. "He sucks their _blood_?"

"Yeah," Ed noted with excitement.

Earl scratched his head. "He didn't just get their phone numbers like a normal male?"

Ed sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic, silly."

Earl shook his head and turned around. "Seems to me he'd get farther in the relationship if he didn't make them anemic."

* * *

Earl sighed, exasperated, as he talked on the phone at the end of the day. "Yeah, Dad – they … they … they want me to stay over." He put his other hand over his free small ear hole to drown out the bustling crowd of jubilant students. "It's for the YMCA." He nodded. "Yeah, I've been learning a lot." He paused as he listened to his father ask him about his grades in school. "Oh, I've never put too much thought in that," he replied with his well-rehearsed answer. "These teachers all want us to conform to the silliest notions like going to work and getting paid. Traditional dinosaurs don't have to fool with all that nonsense." He sighed again. "Yeah, but it's the law. I _have_ to be here. No, Dad, it isn't a complete waste of time … me an' the other kids skip out a lot and practice hunting techniques." He nodded and grinned. "Yeah, I'll bring ya home a mastodon or something. I'm gettin' pretty good at slicing them open with my claws." He paused again. "Thanks, Dad. See ya."

He hung up. He hated lying to his parents. His mother seemed to praise him at least a little for his grades, but to his father, it was blasphemy.

For millions of years, dinosaurs had scraped by just barely, dying young and living miserable lives. Earl didn't see why life shouldn't improve for once. He didn't always understand the rationale behind the Elders' judgments, but at least they were trying.

Still, as much as he liked learning, Earl was very much still quite alone. Yeah, there was Sid and half a dozen other students who would talk to him – but they almost always teased him about how frail he was at some point. What was the point of bulking up, anyway?

Nowadays you could just go to a store and pick something up in a box. The refrigerator was a sacred invention that allowed dinosaurs to eat whenever they felt like it.

He understood what his father wanted … but he wondered why civilization was so bad. Surely it couldn't be. Of course, there were companies like Wesayso, who seemed to trap dinosaurs in low-paying jobs for no other reason than they were bored, but society _was_ or _could be_ so much more.


	4. The King

_The King_

(Late 60,000,033BC)

Pearl Sinclair, wearing a brightly colored blouse, checked her plumping cheeks in her compact mirror as she applied makeup just outside La Brea High School's gym. Pearl couldn't wait for the upcoming Refrigerator Day pageant the school would hold in December: she was going to play her guitar and make a name for herself.

Specifically, a last name, like the last name of the stud who always seemed to play the Son in the pageant. When he bended over in front of the prop fridge, she definitely felt a chill….

A commotion in the gym startled her, making her mess up her eyeliner. She opened the large double doors and saw a basketball game that didn't seem to be going very well. A lone tan tyrannosaur twirled confusedly in circles as other students laughed viciously, stealing the ball from him repeatedly.

After several moments, the tyrannosaur, on the verge of crying, used his huge jaws to knock away the student with the ball and grabbed the ball with his sharp bright white teeth. He clumsily attempted to dribble it, but as the ball bounced back up off the floor, he bit too hard and it hissed as it deflated. Laughter started to turn to yelling and taunting, as the students started to pull their arms into their sleeves and mock the tyrannosaur's tiny arms.

"Pearl, get outta the way," Earl's voice chastised from behind. "I'm late for gym!" He paused, gulping. "Uh, what game are they playing?" he asked timidly, hearing the heated arguments inside.

Pearl turned around and looked her brother up and down, smirking at the sight of her twin brother in a jersey that nearly swallowed him. "Basketball."

Earl sighed in relief. "Good – whenever we play baseball, the guys always try to use me as the bat."

Pearl put her hand up to stop him. "It's getting rough in there, Earl. Maybe you oughta go back to Lit class and compose a ballad or somethin'."

Earl stared at her in disbelief. "Pearl, I'm not fragile. Besides," he continued, waving at her dismissively, "basketball's a bloodless sport."

* * *

The tyrannosaur bellowed as he slipped in a pool of blood forming from the group of students who were all biting and scratching, landing with a squeak and a thud. Some hunkered down, stalking him, just about to pounce. Others were too busy fighting other students.

"Pull off the arms!" one cried. "Make him more aerodynamic!"

The terrified tyrannosaur clenched his eyes shut as a small group of dinosaurs jumped up to attack his quivering frame as it lay on the floor. He cringed as he felt the weight of his attackers, hearing the crunching and blood-curdling screaming.

"I _said_, 'Leave him alone!'" shrieked a tense male voice.

Suddenly the weight lifted off and the tyrannosaur cracked open an eyelid. To his shock, a small green and brown megalosaurus was getting a beating, bite marks scattered all over his tail and arms.

"We'll teach ya to protect Stubby," growled a muscular student, throwing the megalosaurus high into the air, toward the basket. He slipped through, dislocating his shoulder with a crack and landing with another crack. The jock sneered and called off the attack. "That's enough boys," he announced. "If we kill 'em we'll all get pulled from the team. Let's let Mr. Overachiever and Stubby clean up the mess – _if_ Stubby over there can handle a mop!" The students laughed and walked out of the gym.

* * *

In the small nurse's office, a fat brown female ceratopsian in a crisp white dress finished bandaging the aching and woozy megalosaurus. She popped him on the head with her palm and spoke in a crusty voice. "That's not a good way to get into the playoffs, moron. Dinosaurs only sanction violence in three sports: soccer, hockey, and boxing."

"What about pro wrestling?" questioned the tyrannosaur as he sat in a chair nearby, not nearly as injured as the megalosaurus.

The nurse snorted. "Fake sports don't count," she replied curtly before leaving the office.

The tyrannosaur watched as the megalosaurus male cringed with every movement, especially when he tried to touch his scalp. "Uh, t'anks," the tyrannosaur offered finally, fidgeting in his seat a little. "If you hadn't jumped in dere just then, I would been part of the school menu by now."

The megalosaurus looked up and grinned, revealing a few cracked or missing teeth. "We still might be … this was only second period."

"I'm Roy," the tyrannosaur told him.

"Earl – pleased to meet ya, considerin' the circumstances."

Roy stared at Earl's head. "Don't that hurt?"

Earl shrugged, maintaining his smile. "Nah," he said, trying to avoid cringing. "I got a thick skull – what could possibly go wrong?"

Roy looked down at the ground, his voice starting to waiver. "I guess you could lose a few IQ points – all because o' _me_."

Earl stared at Roy. Roy seemed so depressed, like he had completely been destroyed – even if he _hadn't_ been eaten. Earl glanced up at the ceiling and chuckled. "Ah, I ain't got _that_ much to lose. School's not really my proudest environment."

Roy glanced up in confusion. "But – they said --."

Earl shook his head slightly, a compassionate (though swollen) look on his face. "Those jerks say a lot o' things, Roy," he told his depressed new friend. "I usually get C's and D's – I just put little marks on the sides to make them A's and B's."

"Really?" Roy asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah – we gotta make our _own_ successes," Earl replied, hoping he wasn't hesitating and revealing the improvisation. "At least, that's what my dad always tells me." He eased down and limped over to Roy, placing a hand tenderly on the tyrannosaur's narrow shoulders. "Guys like us don't just get handed success on a silver platter."

Roy shook his head and stared at the floor. "Nah, I guess not. I've been on my own for awhile now – no one to look after me." He glanced up at Earl with a sheepish expression. "You got a family, Earl?"

Earl shrugged. "Yeah, but you're not missin' nothin'." He looked away wistfully. "Family or not – that's somethin' you get stuck with. You don't have any say in the matter. You're just a tiny leaf getting carried away by the wind, unable to do anything about it." He looked back at Roy and smiled as warmly as he could. "But friendship – that's something you can _choose_, Roy. It's like a buffet table – you look around and pick the stuff that tastes the best to you. Or at least won't make you puke, whichever," he added under his breath.

"So – you picked me?" Roy asked innocently and hopefully.

Earl nodded. "A normal carnivore like you would just rip off the other guys' arms to let them know how it felt." He pointed at Roy. "You begged them to stop."

Roy averted his gaze. "So … I'm a coward."

Earl sighed. "No, Roy, you aren't a coward. You wanted those guys to change for the better – to not go with their primal instincts and live more civilized lives." He nodded. "It – speaks to me."

"What does it say?" Roy asked, hope starting to return to his bitter voice.

Earl smiled. "It says, 'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship'."


	5. Fourfooted Love

_Four-footed Love_

(60,000,030BC)

Pearl stared at the mirror in the female's bathroom. At sixteen, she was now rather hefty, at least 200 pounds heavier than Earl, but instead of hating herself, Pearl actually liked the look. She trembled with anticipation as she put on her makeup. Over the last few years, dinosaurs, both two-footer and four-footer alike, had started living on this side of the Great Swamp, making the Elders and dinosaurs like her father nervous.

She didn't know why, but Willie the titanosaur, a hulking gray behemoth with pale stripes, made her heart flutter. It had been hard for him and other four-footers to adjust and public buildings and other parts of the infrastructure just couldn't seem to keep up. Last year, a diplodocus ninth-grader died when her head smacked into the concrete undersides of the new bridge.

Earl wasn't a big fan of four-footers, but after the funeral, he seemed rather upset. It wasn't until after New Year's that he told her in secret that he had been worried about his friend Roy, who hadn't been seen for months. Earl saw that he had been abnormally quiet and downcast, so he was terrified that Roy would do something awful.

Pearl wished she had a friend as loyal as Roy, though she hadn't really had the opportunity to meet him for very long. From the stories Earl told, he was very sweet (though Earl didn't say it that way … he had said Roy was "open to anything") and compassionate.

Pearl didn't have that. Her mother wanted her to be the next female business dinosaur, in the vein of Ethyl Phillips, who was one of the first females to break out of the domestic drudgery and climb up the professional ladder. Pearl did admire Mrs. Phillips in a way, though she didn't want to be a business dinosaur like her own mother wanted. She liked how Mr. Phillips encouraged his wife to succeed, unlike Pearl's father, who derided her at every turn. He was stern to Earl as well – all because they wanted to stay civilized and not go back to risking their health every waking moment. Life was meant to be enjoyed. Dreams were meant to be followed.

Males were meant to be wooed.

Earl, though, didn't seem to have a romantic bone in his body.

* * *

Earl, now a lean yet athletic Megalosaurus, slapped on another ten-pound weight and started pulling on the handles of the gym equipment.

"Hey," came a quiet, deep voice.

Earl stopped and wiped himself with a small towel. His eyes brightened. "Roy!" He rushed over to his long-missing friend. "What happened? I've been worried _sick_!"

Roy stood back uncomfortably. "You – you _have_?"

"Yeah," Earl replied, nodding. "You just up and left and I didn't know if you were okay or eaten or what!"

Roy blushed and stared at the floor, grinning. "Well, t'anks for bein' worried, pally-boy. I just couldn't stick around after the funeral." He looked at Earl, confused. "What started the exercise routine? You look … good," he told his friend bashfully.

Earl smiled, his molars having been replaced with gold bridge work after he got beaten up when he and Roy first met. He slapped a hand on Roy's slender shoulder. "I'm gonna do it, Roy. I'm gonna get me a girlfriend and tell my ol' man off."

Roy gawked at Earl. "Well, dat's a shock. What'd I miss?"

Earl turned and went back to weightlifting, grunting every once in awhile. "We learned about the Code of the Wilderness earlier this spring." He paused, gritting his teeth as he let the weights down. "A teen male can challenge his father for supremacy." He stopped and sat back up, wiping the sweat off his face. "I didn't understand all the details – you know me, I'm a mess when it comes to complicated things – but I think I get the gist. I'm tired of him yellin' at me all the time, Roy," he continued. "I'm gonna gain a thousand pounds of rock-hard muscle and teach him a thing or two about the Code."

Roy kept staring at him. "Are you sure you wanna do dis, pally-boy? I mean, he's your old man. I ain't had a father for years. Are you sure you can just throw yours away?"

"I'm gonna have to dump him off a cliff earlier than expected, that's all," Earl told him. "I'd have to do it when he turns seventy-two anyway." He started lifting weights, smiling at his plan. "Why wait?"

Roy shrugged. "I guess procrastination _is_ an undesirable trait," he offered finally.

Earl nodded, straining. "Exactly. If my father taught me anything, he taught me that a dinosaur has to take his life into his own hands. He wants to live like wild dinosaurs? Then he can _die_ like one." He paused to catch his breath. "Besides, I can kill two birds with one stone if I gain muscle: I can put an end to my father's whining and I can score some female who'll drool over my abs of steel and then make me some dinner afterward."

* * *

"I said _no_ and that's final!" barked Dominic as he dragged some thousand-pound meat toward the front door of the apartment. "I've kept my mouth shut about a lot o' things, Pearl --."

"You don't waste a _single_ word on keepin' me in line!" protested Pearl angrily.

"And it's better for you since I don't," he shot back. "Your mother may spoil you rotten, but the Code of the Wilderness states a parent's supposed to ensure the survivability of its offspring. You're _not_ datin' some darn four-footer and that's _that_!"

"But _Pa_ --!"

"Don't 'Pa' me, Pearl," Dominic grunted as he stopped. He growled at her. "What exactly did you have planned for this 'relationship' anyway? If you wanna have kids someday, you gotta stick to your own kind."

"You an' Ma are different species," retorted Pearl, her hands on her thick hips.

Dominic rolled his eyes. "That's different. We still _fit_, if you get my meanin'."

Pearl scoffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in indignation. "If I can't date Willie, then I'm _leaving_."

Her father wiped his nose and pointed at the door. "See that door right there? It's not forcin' ya to go through it."

Cayla, dressed in a purple gown, walked out of the door with a look of concern. "What is going on out here?"

"Your daughter's finally cracked wide open," replied her husband angrily. "Either that, or I'll do it for her."

Pearl inched closer to her mother. "Mama, Papa won't let me just be me. I love Willie and we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what Papa thinks."

"It ain't natural and sooner or later you'll find that out," grumbled Dominic.

Cayla frowned. "I'm _not_ seeing this family get torn apart." Before Dominic could respond, she continued, "I don't care what our ancestors did. They may not have had the concept of committed families --."

"You _need_ to commit _her_," Dominic argued, pointing at Pearl.

Cayla shook her finger at him. "Don't interrupt _me_, Papa," she snarled. "This whole nuclear family thing is new, but I want it. That means no one leaves unless they're dead or married."

"See?" Pearl boasted at her father.

"No, Pearl," Cayla replied, "that wasn't permission. Your father may not be advising you in the most loving way, but he's right. It won't last. It _can't_ last. You need to turn off the valve of _that_ little pipe dream. I'm sorry, Hon."


	6. Code of the Wilderness

_Code of the Wilderness_

(60,000,030BC)

Roy looked up from his lunch and frowned. "Uh-oh," he told Earl, who was scarfing down a feline-like mammal.

Earl glanced up and saw Stan, the top athlete of Bob LaBrea High. He was a dark green muscle-bound thug who enjoyed dominating all the other males. Earl shivered slightly. It was Stan who attacked him for sticking up for Roy, dunking his formerly frail form through the basketball hoop.

"Hey, Earl!" Stan bellowed. "Them muscles help you open your locker yet?"

"What d'ya want, Stan?" Earl grumbled.

Stan grinned. "I heard you're gonna bulk up, get strong, an' take on your ol' man," he replied. He jabbed a thumb toward himself. "I'm gonna graduate before you get around to doin' that. I came to tell ya I was gonna show ya how it's done." He winked. "Feel free ta copy my genius strategies if ya want when you hit middle age and can take down your old man."

Earl rolled his eyes and sighed.

Roy stared at Stan. "Your pops is a moderately wealthy business owner," he told the arrogant athlete. "You don't exactly strike me as the type o' guy all dat interested in runnin' a textbook company."

Stan scoffed. "I ain't runnin' no _book_ thing," he told Roy. "I got Ma for _that_." He shrugged. "But I'm tired of my pops tellin' me I'm some no-good brain-dead loser. It takes a lotta brain power to rip muscles _this_ size," he said, flexing his biceps. He smirked and left.

Roy glanced at Earl. "What makes him so sure he can win?"

Earl shrugged. "He's definitely bigger than his ol' man." He glanced at Roy. "Besides, the guy recently got squashed by his own suicidal daughter, from what I heard." He chomped on a thick bone. "Hasn't walked right since. Stan definitely has an advantage."

Roy glanced down at his own lunch. "Well, what happened with the daughter?"

"Huh?"

"His daughter," Roy repeated. "Why did she want to kill herself?"

Earl shrugged. "That's some middle-school female thing, Roy," he said casually.

Roy shook his head. "Dat's not very supportive of ya," he noted. "You were worried about _me_."

Earl sighed and put down the bone. He stared at his friend. "Roy. I'm not interested in some middle-schooler's 'boo-hoo, life's an inconvenience' sob story. I got better things to worry about than some nut case who wants to jump off roofs."

"Like what?"

Earl stood up and threw his remaining meal in the trash. He had lost his appetite anyhow. "Like … like … like watching how Stan picks up chicks and beats the snot outta his pops," he replied uncomfortably as he left.

* * *

At the end of the day, Earl, Roy, and a few of Stan's friends showed up at the sacred site where dinosaurs left their children to learn about empathy. Stan was pumping his fists and bragging about all he wanted to do to his father.

A tan Tyrannosaur with dark brown stripes around his neck appeared and stood next to Roy. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

Roy stood back, his eyes popping in recognition. "Hey, Roy!" He nodded. "How ya been?"

The striped Roy smiled. "Wanted to see the fight, though I think Stan doesn't have a chance at all of beating Mr. P."

"You don't think he can take some crippled ol' pop?" Earl asked sincerely.

The striped Roy shook his head. "He's toast."

Roy shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I just wish I _had_ a father," he said finally. "Dis is da very spot I was left as a young toddler."

The striped Roy rolled his eyes and inched closer over to Earl and bent down to whisper. "Actually, that happened to _me_. He keeps getting us confused." He shook his head. "Poor guy." He glanced quickly at Roy. "My brother lived with our father until he was ten. He leaves every time he gets upset. The last time, my father said he was leaving to go find me and gave him a pen and pencil set for his first Howling, which he'd miss. I only get a chance to see Roy every once in awhile because he keeps running off."

Earl glanced at the striped Roy, confused, and whispered, "If you know your ol' man is lookin' for ya, why don't you tell him where you are?"

The striped Roy shrugged. "I like to keep my father busy. He gets so depressed unless he's on a mission. Stems from his old war days."

"Oh," Earl replied.

Finally, an aging green dinosaur with a pointed head, entered into view, limping as he walked with an ivory cane. Behind him, a dark brown female with a sharp beak-like pale jaw and pointed black glasses, ambled toward the scene, her tail swaying gently. She had her arms crossed. "So," she noted with a voice that was starting to get raspy with age, "let me get this straight: you," she said, pointing to Stan, "want to prove how tough you are fighting a male with a limp."

"Hey," retorted the aging male with a playfully hurt smile. "Give me a _little_ credit, Cupcake."

The female rolled her eyes. "You two males want to play a little rock 'em-sock 'em, be my guest," she groaned. "I'll be at the house." She turned around and paused. "Don't kill the kid, Louie," she said before she left.

As Stan's friends cheered him on, he beat his chest and growled and snarled. Louie Phillips walked around his beefy son until he stood in front of a small shed waiting area. He tapped his cane on the ground a couple of times. "C'mon, son – show me what you got."

"You're gonna regret that, Pops," Stan boasted with a deadly grin.

Louie smiled confidently. "What's to regret? Either you, my own son, beat me according to the Code, or I successfully defend my position. I prove my place in the food chain regardless." He beckoned to Stan. "Go ahead. Land a single hit."

Stan roared and rushed at him. Louie nimbly stepped aside and Stan ran smack into the shed, sending the heavy wooden beams crashing down.

Everyone gasped. Louie looked on in concern as his son twitched. He glanced around and sighed. "Will someone please contact a doctor? Does anyone feel like lending a shirt or something to help me bind his chest? It looks pretty bad."

* * *

That night, Roy watched the moon with Earl, their scales shimmering in the moonlight. "Wow," Roy blurted out, "a punctured lung and some broken ribs. Dat's rough."

Earl nodded sadly. "Yeah. I guess just bein' stronger than your father doesn't guarantee anything."

"Maybe so," Roy agreed. He turned to Earl. "So, you gonna quit all dat muscle-buildin'?"

Earl scoffed and grinned, shoving away his friend with one hand. "You kiddin'? Even if I don't take on my dad, I can still get a bunch of female groupies who worship every drop of sweat that falls off my emerald green scales."


	7. Call of the Wild

_Call of the Wild_

(60,000,029BC)

Cayla had a frighteningly pale face. She slept or moaned in bed nearly all hours of the day, getting up only to go to the bathroom.

Pearl looked on in concern just outside her parents' bedroom. Earl stood cautiously behind her. "What do you think is wrong with her?" Pearl whispered.

Earl shrugged. "I dunno."

Pearl took her brother by the hand and went to the dining area. It was spotless, due to the fact that their father Dominic insisted they eat outside like their ancestors. She sighed, wiping a tear from her eyes. "I've never seen Momma like this," Pearl muttered sadly. "Somethin's wrong. We gotta get to a doctor."

Earl looked away.

Pearl glared at him. "_Earl_ – you're not just gonna _leave_ her like that?"

Earl still avoided eye contact. "Dad said --."

Pearl slapped her hand on the table. "I don't give a flyin' hoot what _Dad_ said," she hissed. "Our mother's sick an' she needs our help."

Earl finally looked at her. "None of us have jobs, Pearl," he said finally. "How do you expect us to pay for a doctor?" He looked down. "Maybe it's just something she ate."

Pearl grit her teeth and looked away. "Ain't nothin' we eat makes the color of what's in that toilet, Earl."

Earl scratched his head. "The Laws of Nature, the Code of the Wilderness … they all agree that the sick and the dying --."

"Mama's _not_ dyin'," Pearl retorted. She shot a dirty look at her brother. "Go find Pa and get him here. Mama doesn't want anything in this life except a lovin' family that sticks together. That means all of us have to survive, Earl."

"We're not immortal," Earl grumbled as he stood up.

Pearl glared at him, teeth bared. "You get Pa over here or I swear, Earl – you'll never live to see adulthood."

* * *

Deep in the swamp, Dominic stuck his feet in the cold marsh, letting mud ooze up his feet. He leaned against a tree and sighed contentedly. Earl appeared in a red-and-black jacket. "Dad?"

"Don't bother me, kid," he sniped.

"Dad, Mama's sick," Earl insisted, rubbing his hands nervously.

Dominic glanced at his son. "Boy, you make sure you take her out away from the apartment. You don't want scavengers runnin' around all willy-nilly when she passes."

Earl growled, clenching his fists. "Didn't you _hear_ me? Your _wife_ needs you! The Code of the Wilderness --."

Dominic stood up and stared down his son. He jabbed an index finger at the teen's athletic chest. "Code says a lot o' things, boy," he said. "The Code was written by a bunch of dinosaurs who want to pretend to do things the old way while makin' themselves a bunch of unfit ninnies." He waved dismissively. "Before our ancestors learned to write and read, the sick and the dyin' were left behind. It kept us _safe_, boy."

"But it's _wrong_!" protested Earl loudly and desperately. "You committed yourself to her when you _married_ her! You're supposed to defend your mate and the mother of your children!"

Dominic leaned back and crossed his arms. "Boy," he said coldly, "I gotta defend her against predators. She's just sick. It's a whole different story."

Earl roared, "She's sick with _germs_! Germs are just _tiny_ predators we can't see!" He glared at his father. "How can you even say you _love_ her? All you've ever done is find ways to get me an' Pearl to do all the work!"

Dominic pushed his son down into the muck. He snarled, curling his upper lip. "Earl Sneed Sinclair – marriage ain't never been about love. It ain't even in nature. You ever see lesser animals like amphibians get married? Of course not. They just get to business and move on with their life. I bring home the food. I kept you youngin's alive, despite the fact I was dealin' with kids who couldn't snap the neck of a dragonfly. An' here you are, _darin'_ to lecture me about my duties! Your momma turned her back on me. She was a vicious monster in the old days. She could take on prey four times her size in her prime. After you two were born, she got this 'civilization' nonsense in her head, worshippin' those fools like that Phillips female. She became the very thing she rejected. I can't go save a female like that. I won't. She's slippin' down the food chain an' nothin' you or Pearl or those 'doctors' can do about it." He turned his back. "Now move on, boy. You go ahead an' get sick if ya wanna, but I ain't comin' back."

* * *

Earl slinked into the apartment, hanging his head low. He entered his mother's bedroom, caked in mud. Cayla and Pearl gasped when they saw him as Pearl held a wet washcloth to her mother's face.

"What happened, Earl?" Cayla asked weakly.

Earl looked at his mother and then looked at Pearl.

"Where's Papa, Earl?" Pearl demanded.

Earl tried to wipe off some of the mud, in vain. He finally glanced back up at his mother. "He … he … he's not comin', Ma."

Cayla's eyes started to tear up.

Earl flashed a look of shock. "Nononono – I mean, he wanted to, honest! He … uh … he … he was followin' me back to the apartment … when … when … he got sucked into a swamp. You know – you don't watch where you're goin' and that stuff just sucks ya straight down," he added, getting more confident as the lie wore on. "That's why I'm covered in mud. I tried to pull him out. He's … he's just … _gone_, Mama," he said, starting to sob. "I tried to save him. No matter what happens, me an' Pearl'll be here to help you until you get back on your feet again." He put a hand over his heart. "I _promise_."

* * *

Roy gasped the next day. "You're quittin' school? Can you _do_ that?"

Earl shrugged. "I don't have a choice, Roy. Pearl's gonna try getting some singin' gigs to help out until I can find a job. Someone's got to bring home some money until Mama gets better." He sighed. "Pearl found an ad in the newspaper about creating some jingles for some radio commercials. She's got to move to do so. That just leaves me."

"I'll help, pally-boy," Roy offered. "You've been dere for me, let me help _you_ out for a change."

Earl smiled bashfully. "Thanks, Roy. You wouldn't happen to know who's hiring teenagers, would you?"

Roy shrugged. "Well, teenagers aren't the usual pool for prospective employees, but I'll ask around." He gasped in an epiphany. "Hey, I'll ask da principal! Dat way, you can get a job an' still stay around da teachers and keep learnin' stuff!"


	8. The Janitor

_The Janitor_

(60,000,026BC)

The allosaurus female, four pink crests just beginning to rise from her green head, giggled with the rest of her fifteen-year-old classmates as they sat on some bleachers, watching the muscular janitor move a wheelbarrow full of dirt around, the sweat glistening as it dropped to the floor. She wore a thick yellow sweater with leaves embroidered along the sides. They had just returned from an Ash Day, which seemed awfully early this year. Volcanoes almost never went off in the early spring. The janitor sure had his hands full.

Glenda, a purple needle-nosed female, wearing a broad-rimmed pink hat with daisies in it, laughed. "Hey, Fran – I dare you to whistle to him."

Fran Phillips glanced at her, blushing, as her other classmates started to egg her on. "But, _Glenda_, I'm not that kind of female."

Glenda rolled her eyes. "Fran, if you're sleazy enough to gawk at him, you're sleazy enough to do catcalls," she replied in an exasperated tone. She elbowed Fran. "C'mon – stop being such a … such a _guy_."

"Yeah, it's not like guys get to have our kind of fun," offered another student.

"But you don't even _like_ him," protested Fran. "You think he's dumber than the dirt he carries."

Glenda scoffed. "Really, Fran – you don't have to like him to tease him."

"I don't think that's very nice," Fran said, shaking her head.

Glenda stood up and grinned. "Then I'll do it." She cupped her hands around her snout. "Hey, Sinclair! You got a tissue?"

Earl Sinclair stopped and shook his head.

Glenda laughed. "But I thought you invented them – Earl _Sneeze_ Sinclair!" Her friends all erupted in laughter, slapping their knees, nearly falling over on the bleaches.

Fran frowned.

"It's 'Sneed', you illiterate lizards!" Earl shot back before continuing on his journey, grumbling.

"Was that really necessary?" Fran asked Glenda, hurt.

Glenda slapped Fran's shoulder. "Oh, _lighten up_, Fran. Stop being such a goody-goody."

* * *

Ethyl Phillips sat down at the dinner table, which was elegantly draped in a silk tablecloth underneath a sparkling chandelier. She smiled as Fran brought in the dishes, piled with food. "Fran, dear, I hear you have a crush on someone."

Fran blushed.

Ethyl laughed. "Ha! I knew it! So, who is it? That Pullman kid? Bright boy – he'll turn into a fine chemist some day."

"Well," Fran began slowly as she sat down to eat, "I can't seem to make up my mind between a strapping young tyrannosaur or a strapping … um … _older_ … megalosaurus."

Ethyl smirked. "Ah, torn between the King of the Dinosaurs and a senior, huh? Maybe I can help you pick."

Fran cleared her throat. "Well – the tyrannosaur is very nice," she told her mother. "He plans on becoming a swimming instructor."

"I guess dog-paddling is out of the question," Ethyl noted dryly.

Fran gave her mother a dirty look. Finally, she smiled dreamily. "The megalosaur, on the other hand, um, is easy on the eyes and has a great sense of responsibility toward family. He cares for his mother, who's been sick for quite awhile now."

Ethyl stroked her chin. "Hm, eye candy versus dedication." She nodded slowly. "That's a tough call." She stared lovingly at her daughter. "What do _you_ think of them so far?"

"My instincts tell me that dedication to family is more important than just mere looks," replied Fran.

Ethyl smiled and nodded. "That's my girl." She quickly lost her smile, but teased, "Just don't forget that it's not an 'either/or' situation, Frannie. Success is also about trying to maximize _all_ the benefits." She couldn't help but smirk.

"_Mother_," protested Fran as she started to dine, rolling her eyes.

* * *

Earl finally got home late that night. He put up his gloves and his work boots and sighed. He opened their small fridge and took out a small frog and gulped it down without even bothering to cook it.

Cayla, in a striped bathrobe, wearily entered the tiny kitchen, holding onto a walker. "Earl? How was work?" she asked, smiling weakly.

"Have you heard from Pearl?" Earl asked her, not succeeding in hiding his bitterness about those blasted teenage females teasing him.

Cayla nodded. "She called this morning," his mother replied. "She'll be mailing the check tomorrow as soon as the post office opens." She gently put a hand on his bulging back muscles. "Don't worry, son. You'll find a full-time position in no time."

Earl sighed and reached for a beer. "I'm just … we're making it, Mama, but I just wish I could do more for you. Working a couple of days a week while Pearl just belts out her sweet little heart makes me feel … worthless."

Cayla sighed and tried to cheer up her son. "At least the job at the school allows you to keep up your exercises," she offered. "It's nice of them to let you use their gym equipment."

* * *

"What do you mean, 'Sinclair'?" asked Ethyl as her daughter cleaned up the kitchen. She was frowning. "You don't mean that high-school drop-out, do you?"

"Mother …."

"Fran," she snapped, slapping her hand down on the marble counter, "you wouldn't dare embarrass this family by doing something that incredibly stupid." She groaned. "You marry a guy like that and you'll be cleaning dishes for the rest of your life. You'll be laying egg after egg while he goes around with his buddies drinking beer and smoking cigars." She shook her head. "I thought you'd had more sense than that."

Fran threw down the towel and glared at her mother. "Mother, you told me a civilized dinosaur tries to see the good in _everyone._"

"He keeps haulin' dirt like that and sooner or later you'll be seeing how good his spilled intestines look," retorted her mother.

"Mother, you're getting angry about _nothing_!" Fran protested. "He never asks anyone out! He's twenty years old! What would he want with a teenager like me?"

"Don't go thinking you're not good enough for even a good-for-nothing like that," Ethyl replied.

Fran smiled triumphantly. "Then you agree that I shouldn't just dismiss him because he's struggling right now?"

Ethyl opened her mouth, but no words came out. She had raised her children to reach for their highest goals. Stan had already been a disappointment. She didn't want Fran to end up the same way – just _settling_ for whatever she could get. She had worked too hard to be a good modern role model. The last thing she wanted was for Fran to end up a living kitchen mop. Still, she had to admit, she and her husband had taught Fran to search high and low for unexpected treasures.


	9. Leaves and Trees

_Leaves and Trees_

(60,000,023BC)

Pearl strode up to the apartment and knocked on the door. Earl opened it. "Well," he said bitterly, "look who decided to remember she had a family."

Pearl, about equal in weight now with Earl (though it was flab, not muscle), put her flashy cowboy hat on the small kitchen table. "Now, Earl, I've been helpin' payin' the bills."

Earl glanced toward his mother's bedroom and then glared at his sister and hissed, "You know, this whole 'let's stick together' thing was – hmm? Whose idea was it?" He shook his head and laughed condescendingly. "I know it sure wasn't _mine_."

Pearl scoffed, placing her hands on her wide hips. "And how do you expect me to help you?" She glared at him. "Don't act like I'm the bad guy here, Earl. I know very well what this is _really_ all about." She pointed at him accusingly. "The slightest suggestion that a female is making more than you just goes and upsets your little male ego," she told him. She looked away. "Boy, are you Papa all warmed over."

Earl grabbed Pearl by her blouse. "How _dare _you tell me I'm not adequate enough?" he growled. "_You_ turned your back on _us_!" He gasped and let her go, staring at the ground. "Oh God – I've become my father," he muttered.

Pearl sighed. "If you're done bein' desperate to protect your male sensibilities, I've got to go." She stopped at the front door. "Earl, you just got to find a good place you can take root. I've been learnin' a lot at the circus. A dinosaur needs to find their place. You can't keep living like you had the family you _wished_ you had."

* * *

Early one Monday morning, just before dawn, Earl Sinclair stared at a newspaper clipping from the classifieds. He stood just outside a large bricked office building. Suddenly, a green long-nosed dinosaur opened the door and beckoned Earl to enter.

Earl cautiously strode down the stern hallway, barely lit this early in the morning. He looked all around at bronze busts of various dinosaurs, all looking like they had never worked their entire lives.

The lone large double doors at the end of the hallway filled Earl with dread. He gulped.

"Well, come in," a raspy male voice ordered. "Don't stand out there like an idiot!"

"Y-yes, sir," Earl answered as he opened the doors.

The long mahogany conference table was surrounded by various dinosaurs, including a small green dinosaur with a pointed head … and a giant of a triceratops, who was sipping some brandy … at six o'clock in the morning.

"Well," said the little green one at the end of the table, "sit down, lad."

Earl gulped and sat, terrified as he glanced at the triceratops, who had piercing yellow eyes.

"_BOO_!" screamed the triceratops in a grating voice, bursting into laughter as Earl nearly jumped clear to the ceiling, slapping his hands repeatedly on the table, nearly breaking it.

The small green dinosaur chortled and nodded. "Yes, I'd like you to introduce yourself. My name is Ashland," he said, nodding toward the triceratops whose gray scales were reddened with laughter, "and this is Richfield."

"Earl. Earl Sinclair," the young interviewee offered timidly as his knees shook. "I understand you have some full-time positions available."

Richfield grinned and turned to his boss, Ashland. "Well, he can read. That already puts him on the fast track to supervisor."

"Really?" Earl gasped with a hopeful desperation. "Aw, that would be _great_!"

Richfield bent down to whisper to his boss, "And just stupid enough to know it doesn't take any brains to watch other dinosaurs work." Richfield and Ashland whispered a bit more before Richfield turned back to Earl. "Well, Mr. Sinclair," he began cheerfully, "how many trees do you think you can push down in a shift?"

Earl stared at him in confusion. "Trees? I thought you said --."

Richfield and Ashland chuckled. Ashland told him, "Now, now, Mr. Sinclair – we here at Wesayso ask all of our employees to start under probation. We have to see the skills. Anyone can write down anything on their resumés. We prefer hard objective data. You understand."

Earl scratched his head. "I … I _think_ so." He looked at Richfield. "I've been lifting weights for years now. I can push down any tree you tell me to."

Richfield grinned and slapped a hand on the table, making everyone jump a little. "Good man, Sinclair. You got drive. _I like it_!" he bellowed. "Report to this forest at 8AM tomorrow," he told Earl, handing him a map. "Three-fifty to start, eight hour shifts, Monday through Friday."

Earl giggled with excitement, taking the map. He bowed repeatedly as Richfield and Ashland glanced at each other, bemused. "Thank you! Thank you!" he shouted as he skipped and hopped out of the office.


	10. The Mighty Megalosaurus

_The Mighty Megalosaurus_

(60,000,023BC)

Earl was finally happy. He was working the weekdays at Wesayso, pushing down stubborn trees that the other employees weren't strong enough to push (or so Richfield said), and working one afternoon a week at Bob LaBrea High School so that he could continue working out. He had just had his picture taken, his muscles bulging as he posed with a red and black plaid thong. He showed his mother the picture, beaming, even as he was taken aback by how frail she looked by comparison.

"A letter came for you today," Cayla noted weakly, nodding toward the small bedside table. "I think it's from Pearl. She's been a huge success too."

Earl took the letter and started to read.

**Dear Earl:**

**I've decided to marry Buttons. He just gets me, you know? He knows how to make me laugh and he treats me like a queen. I'm glad you finally got that job you were looking for. I wish you the best of luck.**

**Love Always,**

**Pearl**

"Isn't that wonderful?" Cayla asked her son.

Earl nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, trying his best to fake sincerity.

* * *

Earl spent nearly all night at the gym, still lifting weights when the school opened the next morning. He saw his sister, surrounded by balloons and party favors and singing and dancing … and he pulled so hard on the weight machine, the wires nearly snapped. He stopped and ran to the forest to push down trees, and as soon as his shift was over, he ran back to the gym. He hadn't even thought about his mother for the last forty-eight hours. All he could think about was how no matter how hard he tried to keep his family functional, it just kept getting worse.

Some senior tennis players started coming in from the tennis court, laughing and sweating and headed for the showers, including a very curvaceous allosaur female with bright pink crests wrapped with a dark blue sweatband.

"OW!" Earl screamed, dropping his weights, clutching his wrist.

The allosaur rushed over to him. "Mr. Sinclair, are you alright?" she asked him in a very concerned voice.

He smiled, trying to act brave, despite the tears flowing from his eyes. "Oh, it's nothing, nothing a little splint won't cure," he told her. "And it's Earl, Earl Sinclair."

"Fran," she replied, blushing. "You don't seem to work around here much anymore. I've missed you."

Now it was Earl's turn to blush. "No offense, but I'm not all that interested in going to jail. You're a little young."

Fran smiled. "I turned eighteen just last Monday," she told him coyly. She took off her sweatband. "Let me wrap that up for you," she said in a motherly tone. "You should get that looked at," she informed him, batting her eyes. "It looks broken."

"Probably," Earl replied, awestruck. No one had ever tended to him so, well, _tenderly_ before.

"How's your mother?"

Earl's jaw dropped. "How do you know about my mother?"

Fran smiled. "A female's business is to learn about the dinosaur she likes."

Earl's face turned as red as his shirt.

* * *

The last day of school two months later heralded a hurrah from all the students and the teachers. Fran was busy talking to her parents, dressed in silver robes from the graduation ceremony. Earl, meanwhile, walked to the apartment. He opened it, discovering in horror that his mother was on the small couch, dead.

* * *

The Phillips had refused to attend, but Roy was Best Man, dressed in a smart-looking tuxedo as Fran and Earl stood happily before the Council of Elders. The scent of incense and the candlelight atmosphere gave the civil ceremony a romantic atmosphere. Earl wore a rented tuxedo, while Fran wore a lacey white gown that stretched beyond her long tail. It had been her mother's. While Ethyl refused to attend the ceremony, she had still given the dress to Fran, because that's what mothers did – they provided for the next generation.

* * *

Earl carried Fran over the threshold to their new house. As Fran started to look around, Dominic, by now barely recognizable, appeared and handed his son a pair of gloves. "When the rich ol' broad hits seventy-two, put 'em ta good use," he said, as he walked away for the last time. _**– The End –**_


End file.
